Entrapment
by Starsurfer108
Summary: (originally written in 2011) Unsure of how to deal with Cain, Abel looks for an advantage in an ally, Praxis. Takes place after page 33 of chapter 2. ONESHOT. COMPLETE. Sorry if this is a bit too heavy for some people.


I hastily left the meeting room and walked down the hallway, not bothering to apologise to anyone I bumped into. It was the typical briefing meeting over errors and techniques used in the last battle. Usually I enjoyed hearing it all, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to get out of there as soon as possible, because I knew that time was ticking down to the point where I'd have to face _him_ again.

I'd have to assume the worst – that Cain knew everything about what happened in the hallway. No doubt that the Tiberius fighter was scared off by the fighter that walked past, whom I assume was a mole for Cain. Hopefully Tiberius' decision to walk away from me was a feint because he knew he was being observed. I knew he felt guilty. I knew I got to him. So now all I have to do is wait for some covert signal to meet with him so it's safe for both of us. Check.

Back to Cain - I'd have to assume that he thought that I knew his secret too, whatever the heck that could be. He'd have already been told by his lackey, so he'd know there was something was wrong with us. And hey, going by everyone acting as if this secret was the equivalent of the DaVinci code, at the very least, it would have to piss me off immensely. No acting ability required. Check.

I decided to grab a towel and go along the very exposed walkway to the common showers, making sure I was moving at a leisurely pace to allow enough time for someone to get ahead of me. Looking disinterested, I selected an out-of-the-way place to discard my clothing. I couldn't see anything out of the ordinary yet. But I couldn't believe how much I enjoyed the cool water splashing on my face and along my body, washing the tension away and bringing me back to reality. I sighed; I needed that. Steeling myself to move away from my moment of reprieve, I turned the water off, dried and reclothed myself, and took another public route that would make it obvious that I was going back to my room.

Putting on my best poker face, I pressed the button to open the door. I couldn't tell whether that 'ffsss' sound was the door or my heart leaping out of my chest. I quickly scanned the room. Nothing. No Cain.

I let out the breath that I had unconsciously been holding, and entered the room - that's when I saw it. My pillow was slightly out of place. People might think I was anal-retentive looking at my habits, but there was another motive - putting things back in exactly the right position was handy so I could tell if anyone had been through my room, notably my nosy sister and parents. They probably still think that I have no idea what an adult magazine is.

I grabbed the pillow to find a little note underneath that said 'Meet me at observation deck #3. Come quickly.' I scrunched up the note with the vigor of victory, and strode out the door, grabbing a book I need to return to the library as a cover.

I tried to use my patented nonchalant-'I'm very busy'-determined look as I strode towards the library. It was definitely a smart place to meet – observation deck #3 had been scheduled for reconstruction for the last year after the accident, and it was practically considered abandoned since the crew needed to focus on more essential areas.

Making sure the passageway was deserted, I manually forced open the creaky door at the bottom of the emergency stairwell. I gasped as my lungs adjusted to the stale air inside. I tackled the stairs at a gallop, wishing that my body could keep up with my will. Each leap I took with my burning muscles was a vindication; I'd finally be in a position where I knew what I was dealing with. I grinned maliciously at the thought of getting back at Cain for thinking that he can push me around. It's on now, bitch.

I slowed myself as I reached the top to give myself a chance to catch my breath, and eagerly pried open the door to see a silhouette of a fighter resting against the balcony rails ahead of me. I flinched at the slightly brighter light, blinking to adjust. With a smile I walked quickly towards him, then stopped short. The blood drained from my face.

"Cain."

Cain tilted his head. "You were expecting someone else?" he asked with a sardonic smirk.

I stood agape at being completely undone, and finally couldn't take it anymore. "What have you done with him?!" I screamed, outraged.

"With who?"

He knew who.

Devastated, I choked out in a whispered voice, "The guy who left the note." My head was spinning, and my only instinct was to keep pushing forward, all the while trying to keep myself vertical.

Eyes unchanging, Cain replied, "I left that note."

My mouth dropped. I didn't know whether he was lying, or he really did put the note there to expose me. Either way, I knew he was toying with me. My eyes narrowed, studying him, trying to glean some crucial telltale sign.

Seeing no immediate response, Cain continued, "I just wanted to try some things that we wouldn't have access to in our room." He was giving this pointed look, testing me to see whether I would go along with our established act.

I frowned at the affront, and glanced around. I was shocked to see many construction materials like ropes and benches in the area that could technically have another use. Looking back at him, my hands started to shake. I was beginning to realise what a bad situation I was in – stuck in a completely deserted area with a guy whom we both knew was the stronger. There was not even any point in testing that.

He took slow steps towards me, and I found I couldn't move. I was a deer stuck staring at the oncoming headlights. I was truly afraid of him. I had no idea what he was capable of.

Reaching me, he said, "Come on, I'm not going to eat you." He lifted his hand to gently thumb my scar. "At least not that much," he said, giving a self-assured grin.

I just stood there, not wanting to accept my fate but also not wanting to expend energy unnecessarily.

Slowly he drew me close into a caress. He dipped his head and breathed into my ear, causing me to instinctively move and inadvertently bury myself deeper into his chest. He knew I couldn't pretend to like him if I wasn't feeling it; it wasn't so much 'acting' as 'losing all reason'. The warmth from his body was soothing; it felt good being pressed against his muscles despite the fact I didn't really have a choice. I felt them flex as he gripped my hips with one hand and ran his fingers through my hair with the other. I couldn't say that he wasn't attentive to what I was feeling – adjusting himself to any physical feedback. So far it didn't seem as if he wanted anything more than to fuck me. I was starting to have moments where I would lose myself to the pleasure amidst the maelstrom of anxious thoughts and dark possibilities, and my breathing quickened. I looked up, almost in despair of my lack of self control. It was bad enough having to fight him – I've got to fight myself as well?

I knew he could see the desire in my eyes. He smirked knowingly, aware that my animalistic tendencies had come to the surface. Grabbing the back of my head, he drew me into a strong kiss. Part of the attraction was that all of this was OK to him, which contrasted greatly with the way I was brought up. Along with his experience in this area, it made him almost… irresistible. He murmured in approval as I began to return the kiss, and he started to walk, guiding me backwards.

I instinctively tensed up at the motion, and he responded by increasing the pressure of his strokes, helping me relax. I felt the back of my thighs come up against something, and Cain pushed forward, forcing me to lie on the table. There was so much dust. I felt dirty, inside and out, and I loved it. Every caress, stroke and kiss from him was so intimate, and seemed so _meaningful_, it started to fill the void that had been created from my fears that the relationship was solely physical. He made it easy for me to forget that I should really be cautious and regard him as the enemy.

He climbed on top of me, pressing into me, and looked at me with want. Licking his lips, he bent down and started to suck at the pulse in my neck. I was grateful that he was making efforts to relax me, trying to dissipate the anxiety. Then suddenly I realised that he probably liked the challenge of breaking through my thinking, making me forget despite myself – and the challenge was greater even now, when I knew enough about him to the point where I _should_ be cautious. I felt like a fool. But my logic was bleeding away with each touch. Maybe what we were doing now was everything to know… maybe I instigated my own plot against me… maybe all the worst-case scenarios conjured up in my brain were completely unfounded… maybe he was feared by his colleagues because he stood up to them as opposed to being a complete psychopath… maybe all the intrigue and secrecy really could be explained by our 'extra-curricular activities'. Looking logically at the effects of this relationship, if it were exposed – certainly it would make for some very awkward family dinners. I moaned appreciatively as he moved his hands along my arms, stretching them out. Surely it can't be that bad?

I felt something press into my wrists. With horror, I realised that he had tied my arms to the table. Terrified, I looked at him, writhing like a trapped animal.

He moved to make eye contact. "Relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

I whimpered, but the look in his eyes told me that what he was saying was true. Terror dissolved into annoyance. Regardless of any ulterior motives he might have, at least for now he just wanted sex. Ironically, despite the position I was in, it almost made me feel like part of a normal couple.

He started to plant kisses on my chest, slowly moving further down. I didn't have a choice. I had to trust him. I had to go with the pleasure. There wasn't anything he'd done so far that actually indicated he would hurt me. It made me more focused on the sensations, now that my mind had given up thinking about how to get out of there. But I didn't like the feeling of being trapped – by him and by my own instincts. As much as I wanted this, I was tired of all the games.

"Cain, just… stop," I said quietly. He paused, releasing the kiss, and raising himself to look at my face, narrowing his eyes. He could tell that I had made up my mind.

With a huff, he released the ropes, then bent forward, placing both of his hands on the table either side of my head, trapping me again. Clearly, he was annoyed.

"Do you feel better now, princess?" he said mockingly. "Don't tell me you didn't know what you were getting into when you slept with a complete stranger." I glared back at him, then looked to the side, embarrassed. He knew very well that what we were doing went against my own sensibilities, but curiosity and my longing for someone with which I could share my darkest secret was strong enough to overcome them. I just couldn't bring myself to tell him in case he would cheapen those feelings – obviously he had different priorities.

"You think that if you knew about my past and where I came from, all of this would be more real?" he growled. "You have to invent your own reality."

I knew that he was saying that his token display of affection should be enough. I glanced up at him to see that he was studying me carefully. Perhaps he could sense my needs, since there was a tinge of anger and frustration in his eyes – most likely because he didn't want to give me what I really wanted… a partner, in all senses of the word.

He gave a snort and moved away, brushing himself down. "Looks like I'll have to get my satisfaction from another person," he said curtly while looking at me, observing my reaction. I wasn't happy about what he said, but I remained silent. I couldn't allow myself to continue, knowing about the ever-increasing likelihood that he didn't give a rat's ass about me.

Sneering, he turned and started walking away from me. My eyes widened suddenly as the face of that young boy from the hallway flashed in front of me.

"Not him-!" I blurted out.

Cain stopped and turned around, studying me carefully. "Yes, Deimos – the boy who told me about your tete-a-tete in the hall," he said, baring his teeth in a predatory way.

My eyes narrowed. There was no doubt in my mind that Cain was just going to use him as an indulgence. In some sense, that boy seemed like the perfect victim – blindly, _stupidly_ loyal.

"You can't keep taking advantage of people, Cain," I said defiantly.

He looked almost amused at what I said, as if my way of thinking was hopelessly outdated.

"He couldn't care less if you got hurt, or killed. You'd be his best friend if he knew that you'd caused me to come to him," he said, looking intently at me.

That didn't matter. We both knew that Cain wasn't good for him, and regardless of what the boy felt towards me, I still didn't like it. I'm sure Cain could see the malice in my eyes.

I was already tainted. I had nothing to lose.

"Fine. You can take what you want from me," I said quietly, looking away. Fuck it all. Maybe it was the fact that I could control him that made me want to do this, plus it was at least some consolation that I'd stop someone else from being taken advantage by Cain – someone who was even less self-aware than I. Besides, it's not as if I couldn't get some enjoyment out of it, on a basic carnal level, even if my hand was being forced to some extent.

He looked at me, incredulous, and then a faint smile seemed to appear on his lips. "You really are stupid," he muttered a bit absent-mindedly. For anyone else, that would have been an insult, but considering Cain's behavioural repertoire, it should be considered as almost affectionate.

"You suck at foreplay, Cain", I said, glaring at him, and hoping to lighten the mood a bit, too. I was resolved, resigning myself to my fate. My brow was creased in a kind of angry pout.

His smile faded as he continued to gaze at me, seeing that I wasn't going to resist him because I would control my own abhorrence. I knew he didn't like the way I was forcing myself to accept him, how it was degrading to feel that I had no attraction to him at all, that he was the inferior choice. His pride was obviously wounded – he'd told me that others wanted him, whereas he was coming to me freely and I was rejecting him.

He glanced at me up and down, summing me up, and he turned to leave.

I leapt up, grabbed his wrist and pulled him back towards me, spinning him around.

"If you weren't such a scheming sarcastic untrustworthy bastard, I would actually like you," I said with a defiant look.

He was clearly surprised, then gritted his teeth. "Tch! I'm not the only one who sucks at foreplay."

The corner of my mouth curled up. He scowled and gave a devious look, and leaned in to place kisses along my neck.

"So we invent our own reality?" I asked.

"Mmmh," he murmured in response.

"I had a dream I slapped you."

Cain smiled. "Keep dreaming, princess."


End file.
